


Fairy Tales

by Hotalando



Category: One Piece
Genre: Childhood Memories, Fairy Tales, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotalando/pseuds/Hotalando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if fairy tales are just a practice for kids to believe in their dreams? A memory lets Sanji think about the true meaning of tales.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Tales

So far, Sanji had been fine, dealing with the new guests on their ship. To be precise, he had been fine condoning- scratch that, he had been okay with their youngest guest being the center of the ladies’ attention. And to be honest, it had its very own appeal to watch them fuss over someone so young and- and what? ‘Innocence’ shouldn’t ever be referred to or associated with that little brat who was more than aware of his power over, well, one third of the men on board. Sanji loathed this boy, merely because he envied his relationship with the ladies, at least as far as he would admit. 

Thinking back, he had always been somehow captivated by the relationship between Chopper and Robin. The reindeer seemed to reveal the motherly side of the archeologist, and not even on purpose. When Chopper was feeling sad, homesick or frightened by Usopp’s made up ghost stories, he didn’t react to catch Robin’s attention. He didn’t _act_ to make her do things, he didn’t manipulate her to mess with others. Though it seemed as if both were filling in gaps in each other’s hearts, it was this deep, untainted, natural bonding that made their relationship so special and most of all, for Sanji, possible to deal with. 

There was something innocent and pure about their interactions that if Sanji was totally honest with himself pointed out a hole inside himself that he’d never known was there.

While with Momonosuke, he was simply envious of him for more reasons than he liked. On top of the list was the fact that he was allowed to bathe with the ladies, sleep in the same bed with them and squeeze his stupid face against their holy breasts. How was he even able to get away with that? Brook and he were certain that the boy was a very clever one, practically planning on how to manipulate the ladies and the perfect timing to wipe it into their faces without getting anyone suspicious. Even if - the ladies would just wave it off, he was only eight, how could you dare to accuse a child of such perverted ideas? All in all, they would never be able to prove how wrong they were about the boy and they were wrong, as much as it hurt to think like that about the ladies (he had even questioned Usopp about the boy’s behavior and had been proven right), so he tried to ignore it as much as he could. There was no point in arguing with the ladies, and who was he to question their expertise after all?

So it happened that Sanji spent more time preparing meals and snacks, even extras for Luffy’s not-so-secret stashes, everything would do, as long as he didn’t have to watch that brat pressing himself against Nami-san’s bosom. It felt a little lonely though in those moments that no Luffy craved for food, none of the ladies asked for coffee or no other intruder entered the galley between the great meal times. He found his mind wander a lot, his thoughts drifting off into either fantasies in which no cute-faced boy stole away his ladies or even memories, mostly when he made something from a recipe he had picked up from the old geezer. 

Huh. Thinking about it, his mind had lately dug up a lot of memories revolving around his childhood and teenage years. Maybe it was another effect from their current guests? Watching Kin'emon and Momonosuke interacting like father and son, which happened fairly rarely but it did happen, triggered some memories Sanji had unconsciously kept locked up in his head. The fact that these simple interactions could make him think about his old man and settle a feeling of homesickness into his belly was enough an embarrassment to hide away from the others. Although, to defend himself, he had only recently walked in on his captain, their sharpshooter and their shipwright exchanging their memories and experiences with substitute fathers (though most of Usopp’s stories were sadly nothing more than stories), which only showed how everyone seemed to have been touched by the breeze of nostalgia their new temporary crewmates had brought along.

A smile crawled onto his lips as he looked down on the half-finished candies in front of him. They were special flavored chocolates with selfmade egg liqueur, just as he had been taught back at the Baratie. Those little candy balls had -and probably still were- one of the specialities of the restaurant and something Sanji had worked very hard for to perfectionize. Although the Baratie was full of brute, chaotic cooks, popular for their entertaining methods of getting rid of unwelcome customers, there were certain things that the old geezer had insisted on, such as having seasonal specialities that would _speak_ for the restaurant’s quality. So they ended up having special Christmas menus, ginger-flavored everything’s (their gingerbread was indeed quite famous), biscuits and cakes matching the spirit of the holiday. As well as colorful painted eggs for breakfast on Easter, and of course those delicious egg liqueur chocolates he was now making for the ladies. It had taken a while and a certain age to convince Zeff to let him help with those candies. At first he hadn’t liked them in the least for their weird and strong taste but it had on the other hand been so intense that he could still taste his old man’s chocolates on his tongue, and had found himself comparing any egg liqueur flavored food to them. Though, he hadn’t started enjoying their taste until he had made them for Nami-san shortly after leaving her hometown. As strange as they might taste, they reminded him of home. 

Maybe he was just in a very sentimental mood, maybe it was the nostalgia that had been messing with him lately that suddenly brought a memory back to the surface that he had long ago abandoned. 

_Pulling up his sleeves, he walked over to the counter presenting the empty silver plates for the breakfast menus, that he as every day began to fill with all sorts of cold cuts and pieces of cheese. They were awaiting a group of several adults and a few children his age for a breakfast buffet that’s preparation still wasn’t completed. It was only shortly past nine in the morning and their ship was supposed to arrive in half an hour, so he still had plenty of time to arrange the individual foods on the plates. Decorating, presenting his dishes had always been a good challenge to him, it was a good change from the usual work of peeling potatoes or washing vegetables. The new cooks had found a liking in making him do the annoying tasks and his old man hadn’t said a word about it yet._

_That old geezer, he never stood up for him. He knew his place in this restaurant and how he was at least as good as those new cooks! Damn that shitty geezer for-_

_“Oi, eggplant, why aren’t you out collecting eggs?” The restaurant’s chef settled back at the stove, stirring the soup that was set for lunch._

_Instantly, the boy’s face turned red from fury and he turned around, balling his hands into fists as he yelled, “I’m not a stupid kid anymore! There’s no Easter Bunny and I have to work!”_

_“Are you sure? I think I saw some eggs upstairs,” the cook said casually, his eyes fixed on the soup in front of him._

_“You think I believe you? You’re only trying to fool me but not this time!” the young cook spat back, his ribcage heaving with every shaky breath he took. How could this stupid geezer get under his skin so easily? And damn, why did he always have to pull pranks on him, didn’t he see that he wasn’t a stupid child anymore? Angrily he bit down on the cigarette between his lips and immediately regretted it but he tried not to make it show._

_“Well then, why don’t you prove me wrong?” For the first time that day his substitute for a father looked at him though the determined but challenging look in his eyes weren’t exactly what the boy had wished to see. He waited for his mentor to break and smirk or anything else that could prove_ him _right that it all was just another stupid joke to set him off._

_Just_ if _he really went upstairs and looked for those eggs, and came back empty-handed, he could still shove it into the chef’s face that he had known it all along (however the geezer would win as well because he had minded enough to look in the first place). And_ if _, which was unlikely as unlikely as Patty finally treating a customer respectfully, he would really find eggs… well, what then? Did he even have another option as to go and see for himself? “Shitty geezer,” he grumbled balling his fists even harder and stepped down from his stool, never once taking his eyes off the man just in case he would miss a change in his features._

_After passing through the almost empty kitchen, dumping his useless cigarette into the trash can, he stepped into the huge refectory that was still quietly waiting for the first guests. It was Easter Sunday, they as usual on this holiday had mostly reservations for the evening, safe from that group coming for a brunch. Despite the stressful and exhausting evenings, he really loved this holiday. For its calm and sunny weather, for the warm breeze that introduced new beginnings and chances, and the moments he could spend watching the waves moving along with it and reflecting the clouds attached to the blue sky. There was so much beauty in this holiday and what it opened up for, that he truly and intently hoped the old geezer hadn’t fooled him for real and thus, ruined one of his favorite days for him._

_He tore his gaze of the mesmerizing sight through the window and set to climb the stairs up to their private rooms. It was still impossible and ridiculous to find eggs there, how stupid was that anyway? Why hide something edible that might never be found? He was fine with painting the eggs for the other children on Easter but hiding them? How could that be possibly fun? Not that he had ever believed in anything like the Easter Bunny because come on, a bunny that would purposefully hide eggs from children? That wasn’t even funny enough to be good joke. And how could the old geezer consider him stupid enough to believe that tale? There was no point in believing in fairy tales, no matter how realistic or wonderful they seemed! He definitely wouldn’t let that stupid old man make him look like a fool - damn it, he was more mature than the other kids his age!_

_However, he couldn’t suppress a gasp when he spotted a little wicker basket sitting lonely in front of his door. How could this be? The Easter Bunny didn’t exist, did it? No, it must have been that old geezer! It was just a trick to make him believe this stupid lie… right? He had to admit though that the sight of the single egg bedded on green napkins made his whole body brim with joy. Grinning from ear to ear (and somehow underneath all the thick happiness, he was angry with himself), he picked it up carefully and bathed in the feelings this moment brought up inside of him. It wasn’t the possibility of the Easter Bunny existing for real that made him so happy (since he could guess that someone from the staff must have done it, there_ could not be _an Easter Bunny!), it was the gesture of getting surprised like this and maybe even being given a gift, even if it was just a simple egg. Although he was still mad at the old geezer for pulling this whole_ thing _on him and treating him like a god damn child. But he would deal with that later._

_In the night he laid sprawled on his bed, looking out of the window at the moon and allowing his mind to wander to thoughts that he wouldn’t let in during daytime. All day long, he had been trying to wrap his mind around the wicker basket and whatever effect his old man had intended to achieve, but to no avail. And that old geezer hadn’t answered any of his questions (“I know you put it there! You’re just fooling around with me again!”), so he quickly had been left alone with his thoughts and doubts. His brain wouldn’t stop working, turning the event over and over without coming to any conclusion at all, to none he wanted to find. What did-_

And there his memory ended. Groaning in despair, Sanji brushed through his blonde bangs, grabbed a fistful and squeezed his eyes shut to help him remember. There had been something he had found out for himself that day, he could _feel_ it, it had been a great revelation to his eight-year-old self and something that had influenced his future as well. Just what was it? What had he figured out, what could have possibly shaped him so much that he could even now feel it? Or was he mixing it up with another memory?

On another, though as interesting note, he had realized something. It had been Zeff to put that basket at his door and lure him there, that was as clear as the night sky. So, what if his plan had not been to fool Sanji but to be more of a father or whatever that old geezer thought he was, and to do what a normal parent would do? 

Sanji laughed. No, that could not be why, that didn’t sound like his old man at all. Not in a thousand years would he do such things, not even for money or for a new leg. 

Then he tried to remember what he had heard Luffy telling Usopp and Franky about his time with Red-Haired Shanks when he was little. Their captain had apparently been very fond of losing his teeth, being the slob he still was, and had placed them under his pillow at night as he had been told by someone just to wake up to a gift hidden under his cushion. Sanji remembered this tale as well, it was about a fairy collecting teeth and in exchange giving the kids gifts, preferably coins. Being clever (and mature!), he had quickly figured out that the fairy was just another fictional character from a tale and that must be the adults fooling their kids. But, in Luffy’s case, would Shanks -the Yonko, infamous pirate captain- step so low to keep alive the boy’s faith in tales? Nonsense, he couldn’t imagine that… but what if? Their captain could have also misunderstood something, confused memories and people, that did happen to everyone after all. 

Even though, was that the whole point of it? Protecting the kids’ faith in stories? Making them believe in imaginary things? But why would that ever be helpful?

Sanji shook his head to get rid of those questions. It was no good thinking about something so ridiculously stupid and impossible, he had better things to do than dwell on unsolved mysteries of his childhood. There were chocolates waiting to be finished and brought to the ladies to please their senses and it was his duty to give his all to make them the best they’d ever tasted. So, with his mind cleared of the past, he resumed his work on the candies. 

By the time he was done, it was already time for a cup of coffee which worked perfectly well with the freshly made balls of egg liqueur. Lighting up a new cigarette, Sanji leaned his back against the counter and smiled at his excellent work. Oh, how the ladies would love him for them and how he would drown in their attention and admiration for him, he was really missing those moments of being regarded like that. And then he would use one of the boy’s evil, smug grins to give Momonosuke some of his own medicine.

Speaking of which, the devil himself had only entered the galley wearing an expression of desperation and helplessness. There, Sanji was surprised to see it now for real, was this eight-year-old boy the ladies were swooning over, standing small and looking lost unlike the brat that was stealing away the women’s hearts. It struck a chord somewhere inside of the cook; what Nami-san had been talking about all the time was real, he had only been blinded by his primal instincts to see it: She had been right all along. Behind this mask of a manipulative brat was hidden a child having come out of captivity and back to his father only a few days ago. And how well he remembered feeling that way, lost and somehow misplaced, ever trying to handle all the torturing memories but never being able to deal with them. 

Forcing this strange sentiment away, Sanji harrumphed as a warning before asking: “Looking for something?”

The eight-year-old boy looked at him puzzled, apparently surprised to find him there, despite his obvious reason to be here as cook. “Yeah, I can’t find Nami anywhere and I…,” he began only to interrupt himself and look down at his fist. His voice was different from usual or rather his way of talking sounded more of a lisp. 

With a soft frown on his features, the cook approached him and knelt down in front of him to be on eye level. “What is it?” 

Instead of answering in words, Momonosuke held his fist between them and opened it to reveal a bloody tooth that seemed to have sit in his mouth mere minutes ago. “I was playing around with Luffy and then I stumbled and fell and… it just came out.” 

Sometimes life had a strange sense of humor, he thought. “It’s fine, it would’ve probably fallen out on its own soon. We’ll clean it and put it under your pillow, okay?” 

Momonosuke tilted his head with a frown. “Are you kidding me? There is no tooth fairy.” 

Sanji couldn’t help but chuckle, “How about we find out?”

 

_So what if the Easter Bunny was real but people didn’t believe in it because they thought it was stupid? What if they didn’t believe in it because it seemed ridiculous and childish, because it seemed impossible? And, he thought, wasn’t that the same reason people didn’t believe in the existence of All Blue? But the All Blue existed, that much he was certain, he believed in it with all his heart and soul. Did that make the Easter Bunny real as well?_

_What if everything he believed in could someday become real?_


End file.
